Friday, March 23, 2007

Such a bittersweet day

this morning began cool with a steady climb to the mid-80's
and I talked a little with Jesus while I pulled the sheet closer

when I reached the entrance to the stairwell, the sweet grapesicle holly trees
ran a river scent trail that stopped me

mid-morning frustration--patronization
I wondered why I was called
why I had to be the one who made nice; who gave a fair chance

I picked a holly branch filled with lime green buds and deep green leaves
I looked closely to see the drops of sweet grapesicle
the station bridge road; the grain mill
how many times did I pass that place and stop to smell more deeply the grape candy scent

I was afraid of tonight; afraid of the awkward moments
afraid that my too nice would not hide my too nervous

Then God dipped into and poured over cupped handfulls: laughter sweet and rich like grapesicle and the bright moon from the Walmart parking lot.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

to not embarrass you

I've been sitting at my desk working on things that suck me dry.

I want to do great things.
I want to do good things.
I just don't want to embarrass you.

I have the chance to be burnished brass or crude;
to be washed away by the culture and the flesh; the pride of life my decision-maker.

I want to do great things.
I want to love big and long.
I want my life to stretch out in beauty like the morning sky.
I just don't want to embarrass you.

I have the chance to be soothing song or brash;
to be carried along by the lust of the eyes; the carnival show my entertainment and distraction.

I want to do great things.
I want to glory small.
I want to see my life stretch out in moments of redemption.
I just don't want to embarrass you.

I have the chance to be transparent,
to relax in my own skin, the quiet, gentle, unbothered spirit.
I have the chance to lead others
into the unconditional love of God, but I have to go first.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Running under the sky

the clouds divide over southern Arizona near the Mexican border

the breath of Alaska--mountains--I stand in an exhale of misty ice

the beginning of Fall and my first 8 miles; I round the corner to enter the stadium and hear a roar and a song

I am singing with the sky--my feet fall in rhythm with my breathing

I take off

past the The Eye of the Tiger straight out into Elijah's freeway